


Patient Collide Chair

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-22
Updated: 2003-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-01 10:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex's three bullet wounds, Toby's great stuff and an attack by a chair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Patient Collide Chair

## Patient Collide Chair

by Genesis

<http://www.angelfire.com/scifi2/alanisyn/>

* * *

Thanks to First Church of Lex's Word In A Can thingy. The title is made of the three words I was supposed to use in the story. I think I missed collide. Stupid me. 

* * *

It's a really simply concept if Lex thought about it. One foot in front of the other. Then the other foot in front of the one. Then one foot in front of the other. 

Rinse and repeat. 

Lex chuckled. 

So maybe it wasn't as simple as it should have been. Whether that was the after effect of being shot three times, or from the gallons of *good</i> stuff pumping through his veins, he couldn't tell you. But he felt like flying. And washing his hair. 

In retrospect, he should have listened to the doctor like the good patient he knew he could be, and stayed an extra night. Just in case he ripped his stitches. His eye-hand coordination wasn't exactly up to par and explaining why his arm and leg were sewn to his chest might be a bit hard. 

But he was Lex Luthor. Playboy billionaire extraordinaire! No one kept him in a hospital bed. In a _gown_ , no less. Nope, couldn't have that _and_ expect to bed every woman in the world by the time he was thirty. 

Lex walked around his office, trying unsuccessfully to find his mini-fridge. The damn thing had a habit of getting up and walking off when he needed it the most. He was going to have to talk to the manufacturers. 

When it became evident that his search for a bottle of water was pointless, he turned to his bar. 

* <b>Dear, dear, bar, what a friend you are. You've always been there for me, and gave companionship in my misery*. 

Dear God, it was time for a nap. 

Twenty minutes and three glasses of his finest brandy later and the ceiling was looking really nice from the floor. 

That chair came out of nowhere and _tripped_ him. 

He'd sue as soon as he could get back up. 

Maybe Toby gave him a very special version of the good stuff. Maybe he gave him the _great_ stuff. He was going to marry Toby. 

The thought brought forth another chuckle, and then a full fledge laugh as he thought about the real person he'd marry if he could. And the trouble he'd have to go through to make it possible. 

"Lex?" _Speak of the devil_

"Down here, Clark." He opened his eyes to see a very worried Clark towering over him. 

"I can see that. Are you okay?" 

"Oh, I'm great. Perfect." He waved his hand. It _would_ have been a gesture, if he hadn't been lying on the floor in his study. 

"You don't look perfect." 

"Gee thanks." 

"Do you want some help?" 

"Your mother would be appalled. That should have been your first question." 

"I'll take that as a no." Despite his words, Clark reached down a large hand and hoisted his friend up. 

Thank God for the couch, otherwise Lex would be back to naming the different colors on his ceiling. _Not enough purple_. 

When Clark was sure Lex would stay upright, he let go of his friend's arm and bent down to pick up stray papers. 

It seemed that everything in Lex's office was running away. 

Lex sat down on the couch less than gracefully and leaned back. His arm sat along the back of the couch and his legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle. He loosened his navy blue silk tie and leaned his head back, admiring Clark's inadvertent show. 

"So, what brings you by, Clark? More problems with Ms. Lang?" He hoped he didn't sound as bitter out loud as he did in his head. 

"No. My best friend got shot yesterday and I thought maybe I should come visit him. Apparently it was a good idea." 

"How very sweet of you." Lex let a slow smile spread across his face. *How very sexy of him. To come _all_ the way over to the mansion to check on me.* 

Lex rolled his head to the side, staring at Clark, sitting hesitantly on the edge of the soft leather couch. 

"Have I told you how wonderful you are?" Lex wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch those cheeks, filled with rosy color, radiating innocence. He wanted to pinch them, kiss them, lick them, bite them, smack them and...maybe he wasn't thinking of the same thing anymore... 

"Only once. And I'm not sure you remember that." Clark smiled. 

"Well you are, you know? Wonderful. Perfect. But not too perfect. That's what I like about you, Clark, even with your perfectness," And Clark just _knew_ that wasn't a word, "You've got flaws. And you're not afraid of them. Not like I am." Lex pulled his hand from the back of the couch and rested it on Clark's knee. The fact that his friend didn't tense or pull away made Lex wonder how often this happened. And if he even wanted to remember. 

Lex stared at Clark staring at the floor. He wanted to touch those soft curls reflecting the blue light filtering through the window, but one thing at a time and his hand was still on Clark's leg. 

Clark cleared his throat. 

"So how are you really, Lex? Even for you, three bullets in one day is pushing it." Clark managed a small smile. 

"A little sore. The man had horrible aim. Want to see?" Lex was already unbuttoning his shirt. It didn't seem to matter that his tie was still on. 

"Um, no, Lex, really, that's ok." 

"Don't be a girl, Clark. Just look." 

"I really don't think you're supposed to do that." Clark winced as Lex _ripped_ the bandage from his wound. And it was probably a really bad sign that Lex didn't seem to feel that. Hell, _Clark_ could feel that. 

"Now look," He edged closer to Clark, the bullet hole in his chest uncovered for all to see. 

Problem was Clark really could do without the images. It was bad enough that he wasn't there to save Lex, his hormones were on a whole different thought process, ending with the same conclusion: Lex really needed to put his shirt back on. 

"Stupid, stupid me." Lex muttered to himself. "Of course you can't look, stupid tie is in the way." Lex promptly discarded the tie behind the couch. 

"Ok, _now_ look." He pointed to the hole down and to the left of his nipple and if Lex thought that Clark was paying _any_ attention to the wound, well then, who was Clark to correct him? 

"Those crude bastards, surgeons they call themselves, had to make small incisions to make the space wide enough to grasp the bullet. You can see the welts, here and here." 

For some reason, and God knows this was some sick joke, Lex was moving closer to Clark and there wasn't a person alive with as much restraint as Clark was exhibiting. 

"I see. But, really, Lex, shouldn't you be resting. And keeping the hole in your chest covered?" 

"Yes, of course, as soon as you see the other two." 

This just wasn't happening. 

But it was and Lex Luthor, son of Lionel Luthor, was unbuckling his pants and fiddling with his zipper in an attempt to show Clark Kent, son of...well, he didn't really know who he was the son of, but yeah, the bullet hole in his upper thigh. 

Of course, Clark hadn't known how _upper_ it was until Lex had his pants down to his knees and one leg of his boxer shorts hiked up past the midpoint. 

Mesmerized by the miles and miles of smooth pale skin slowly being revealed to him, Clark almost didn't realized that Lex had completely skipped over the other wound. 

"Lex, don't you have one on your arm somewhere?" Maybe if Clark pretended his voice wasn't a lot lower than it was supposed to be, Lex wouldn't notice. 

Lex looked confused for a few seconds before Clark actually saw the light bulb flick on. 

"I do! Do you want to see? I promised Toby not to poke at it." He leaned forward and whispered, "It's wide enough to put your finger in." 

He turned around so that he was looking at Clark over his shoulder and swiftly pulled off the bandage wrapped around the back of his upper arm. Not quite the shoulder, but not the bicep either. If the guy was aiming for the heart, he might consider going back to biology class. 

Lex was right. If he really wanted to, which he had no intention of doing, Clark could put his finger in there and it would, disgustingly enough, come out the other side. Clark couldn't even begin to fathom what angle the shooter was at to manage these three shots. 

"The bullet went through here," Lex pointed at the back of his arm, "Came out here," He pointed to the front, "And went back in, here." He pointed at the entry wound on his chest. 

"Jesus, Lex, what did you do, stand there and _let_ him take aim?" Lex tilted his head at Clark and for a moment, he saw a flash of hurt in Lex's eyes. 

"Fine, if you didn't want to see, that's all you had to say." Lex struggled to put his shirt back on. 

If Clark was feeling bad before, he was feeling twice as horrible now. 

"No, Lex, that's not what I meant. You just had me worried, that's all." 

"You don't have to worry, Clark." Lex sat with his elbows resting on his knees and his chin in his hands. 

They sat in silence for five minutes, in which Clark felt about as guilty as if he'd run over someone's favorite pet. 

"So, you gonna show me that other battle scar, or what?" 

Lex beamed at him. 

Now _that_ was kind of creepy. 

"Um, Lex?" 

"Huh?" He asked while struggling once again with his pants. While his shirt was halfway on, it wasn't buttoned up and it kept getting in the way. 

"What did Toby give you?" 

He paused a moment and squinted down at his legs, trying to remember the name on the side of the bottle. "I'm not sure. But I know I can't take more than two pills a day, I can't drive and I shouldn't drink. Although I think I might have had a cup or three too many." Clark frowned. "But I'm fine. See." Lex stood up, only to tumble back onto the couch. 

"Some how, Lex, I don't think that proves your point." 

"No, really. I'm fine. Walking isn't that important. I can stay here, on the couch, with you, right Clark?" 

"Um..." 

"Exactly." Lex smiled lazily, like he figured out something that no one else had and Clark made a note to ask Toby to tell him before he gives Lex _anything_. "I think parents lie too much. When we have kids, Clark, we're not going to lie to them, okay?" 

"Ok, Lex." Clark didn't pretend to be confused because this wasn't the first time Lex had gone off on a tangent like this. Lex doesn't remember and Clark doesn't intend to tell him. 

"I mean, really. They tell you that you can be anything you want when you grow up. Alright, so my father had my profession planned from before I was born but normal parents, that's what they tell you. That you can be anything at all. But what if you wanted to grow up to be...I don't know...a pencil?" 

Lex could _not_ be serious. 

"Why would anyone want to grow up to be a pencil?" 

"I don't know, Clark. Maybe they like writing or drawing and stabbing people?" 

Clark doesn't even want to know what kind of child Lex was in school. 

"I highly doubt anyone wants to be a pencil when they grow up." Lex sighed. 

"What did you want to be when you were little, Clark?" 

"Honestly?" 

"No. Lie to me. Yes, honestly." It was a sad thing when Lex could be sarcastic, even under the influence of Toby's drugs. 

"I wanted to be a dryer." 

"..." 

"We had a washing machine. No dryer. It took forever for my clothes to dry." 

"Right. Well, alright. That's...odd. But your parents never told you no, did they? Because your parents are really nice and I don't think they're that mean. Your dad's not that bad. Just needs a hug. Or maybe it's been a while..." 

"Don't you dare finish that sentence." 

"I assumed your imagination could fill in the blanks." 

"Thanks, now I'll have to wash my eyes out with bleach." 

"If it makes you happy." Clark needed to get the images of his Mom and Dad going at it out of his head. Now. Immediately. This minute. He was so gonna puke. He needed a distraction. 

"So, Lex, what do you want to do now?" 

"Drive." 

"I'm pretty sure that was number two on the list of things you _cannot_ do." 

"Well, fine. Ruin all my fun. Take my freedom! You will not break me!" Clark would bang his head against the wall if it wouldn't risk his exposure. 

"I'm just trying to make sure nothing else happens to you, Lex." 

"I think you just hate seeing me happy." 

"Of course not, Lex. I love it when you're happy. You let me drive." Clark smiled and it took a moment for Lex to absorb the sentence. 

"That's sweet of you Clark. And...hey! You're using me for my cars!" 

"You started it!" 

"No I...hey, yeah. I did. Oops." Lex smiled goofily and shrugged his shirt back on. He did a little shimmying movement into his pants, buttoned and zipped them before resettling himself closer to Clark. 

"Um, Lex...?" Lex was staring at him intently and no one shold have eyes that beautiful. And skin that soft. And lips made just for kissing. 

"You remind me of a puppy." 

"What?" Clark isn't sure if he missed some part of the conversation in which that random sentence would make sense. He doesn't think he did. 

"A puppy...ya know...ruff ruff, bark bark, moooo." Clark wasn't going to laugh at Lex. 

Okay, maybe just a little. 

"I think the last one was a cow." 

"Same thing. Anyway, a puppy. 'Cause you're fluffy." 

"Lex, I think we need to put you to bed now." 

"I don't wanna!!!!" Lex was too old and too Lex-ish to whine but he was pretty damn good at it. Clark can't imagine where he learned it as he highly doubted Lionel tolerated it. 

"The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you can drive." Clark knew that driving was one incentive that Lex could not deny. And he really needed Lex to go to sleep before they ended up making out again. Because the last time was hard enough to forget. He doesn't think he has the resolve to lie if it happened again. 

"Cool!" Instead of standing up like Clark expected him to, Lex stretched himself across the couch, wrapping his arms around Clark's leg and using his thigh as a pillow. 

Clark found it oddly comforting. 

"Comfortable, Lex?" 

"Very. Don't let me sleep too long. You gotta wake me when Stargate SG-1 comes on. I can't miss Stargate. Daniel Jackson is hot." Clark chuckled. Not two minutes after his little revelation, Lex was sound asleep, snoring slightly and fidgeting constantly. 

"I'm more of a Jack O' Neil type of person myself." Clark whispered before leaning his head back and closing his eyes. It'd be really nice if he knew what Toby gave Lex and how long it would last. Just in case Lex woke up and wanted to know why he was having his own private party with Clark's leg. 

Of course, it wasn't like this was the first time something like this happened. 

Now, if only he could find a way to have a conversation about their relationship, friendship or otherwise while Lex was sober. 


End file.
